Michael Vaughan, the former England captain, guided Andrew Flintoff to greatness and basked in reflected glory

When I was the England captain, there were periods I felt Andrew Flintoff was draining me, as I was spending so much time managing him. But when you retire, you look back on your career and I've realised I would not be doing what I am doing now, or have the reputation I have, without Freddie Flintoff. No way. I would not have won Tests and series without Fred, and we would certainly not have regained the Ashes in 2005.

Flintoff, when he was at his best, had an aura about him that I have not seen in any other English cricketer. He had an ability to scare the opposition and you always had a real sense they were fearful of him.

I think it probably had as much to do with his stature and frame as his ability with the bat and ball. He was so big and powerful that at his best, in 2005, I sensed Australia showed him the respect we used to give them. We would look at someone like Hayden and think 'Oh no, it's big Matthew Hayden'.

I sensed they looked at Fred that summer and thought 'Oh my God, it's Andrew Flintoff'. I have never felt that in an England team before or, if I'm honest, since.

As captain, Fred was my 'go-to' bowler, whether it was to take a wicket, to hold an end or just to create an atmosphere in the ground. I used him a lot in that regard. When I thought the crowd needed a lift and we needed to create a buzz, I would bring Fred on.

The public adored him because he gave his all. He would bowl spells that lasted 13 or 14 overs and sweated hard for the cause. Statistics cannot tell us how many wickets he earned for the bloke bowling at the other end. I felt, for a long period, opposition teams just decided to see off Freddie.

Fred had a very simple approach to cricket, whether batting, bowling or catching at second slip. In many ways, that approach encapsulated the way I captained him.

I made things very simple. I used to tell him to watch the ball and hit it so he would be entertaining the crowd and entertaining me on the balcony. I told him that was his job. With the ball, he just wanted to do the basics, such as hit the top of off stump. He did not like to bowl slower balls because he didn't think he had to. He didn't want any fancy field setting.

He was not a believer in the modern ways. He couldn't understand the fitness work and the little gimmicks that, say, a Duncan Fletcher would bring to the team or a Paul Collingwood would suggest in a team meeting.

Over a period he would frustrate the majority of the team because he didn't need to do a lot of the things the others had to go through. Fred was just too good. His abilities were natural.

He was hard to captain at times, particularly after 2005. Before then he was a gem. But after 2005 his celebrity status rocketed and he became a brand in himself and I guess that was hard for everyone to manage.

But players like Fred need to be involved in decision-making, even if you did not take on board all that they say. He was involved in all the meetings and I would pick his brains on stuff, just to make sure he felt wanted.

I don't mind players who are a bit different. I don't agree with the modern, robotic approach to management. I don't mind people doing the odd thing wrong. I don't want a bunch of clones playing for England. I want the odd character, which Fred certainly was.

He was messiest cricketer I ever played with. We were always getting boxes delivered to the dressing room because Fred would have forgotten his kit.

When he went out to bat he would just pick up the nearest bat to hand. When he was out he would fling his pads everywhere. There was always a bottle of champagne near Fred, that he would have won for a man of the match award somewhere. He wouldn't drink it, but it would be there in his corner.

Sometimes he had an unbelievable amount of cash in his wallet as well. He would chuck his wallet down and it would almost dent the table. He was always losing mobile phones and must have gone through 20 in the time I played with him. Even now, he still refuses to answer his phone.

Fred and I came through the old school of county cricket, which was play hard and drink hard. It was very social. It was normal to go and have three or four pints a night. But around 2001 we realised we had to change and it is now an ultra-professional environment in international cricket.

Fred isn't like that. He's not the most professional cricketer in the world but he knew a way of producing performances at big moments and in big series. That was down to mentality. He had a huge belief in himself under pressure. It is an amazing ability to have and very few are blessed that way.

Fred gave hours of entertainment to myself and people around the world. Now the next drink's on him.